


birds in flight

by Nicoleks



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, One Shot, Sharing a Bed, Supercat Christmas in July 2018, vague themes that i really hope make sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-13 18:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15370731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicoleks/pseuds/Nicoleks
Summary: Cat and Kara share a bed in New York and lots of feelings ensue.For RoLo_Renegade, who requested a bed-sharing fic.





	birds in flight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoLo_Renegade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoLo_Renegade/gifts).



> This is for @RoLo_Renegade who requested bed sharing and of course I had to go and complicate it with feelings and stuff (sorry), hope you all enjoy xx

She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed out a wrinkle in the duvet as she tried to focus on the sounds of the loud hiss of the coffee maker and the clanking of mugs coming from the kitchen in an attempt to drown out all the hushed murmurs.

Under different circumstances, Cat would be absolutely euphoric about spending a few days in New York beneath a white, snowy winter sky, with her son by her side and assistant in tow.

Cat imagined a scenario in which Carter would insist on running down to The Met just before closing time after learning that it was Kara’s first time in New York. She imagined he would pull Kara by the hand towards his favorite works, imagined trying to pay off an exasperated guard to allow them just a few more minutes with the art before being told it was time to close up regardless of her bribes.

She imagined maybe even working up the courage to kiss Kara in front of a Monet painting while Carter feigned annoyance at their public display of affection, hands covering his eyes in silly dramatics. It would be a day to think back on fondly without a hint of heartache to follow.

But, that was only a fantasy.

The reality of the situation was that the brownstone was full of mourners, of her mother’s friends and a few distant family members, all waiting to head to the funeral. The morning had been spent greeting people and receiving condolences and well wishes, but after about twenty minutes, Cat had retreated upstairs to her mother’s bedroom with the bitter thought that Katherine Grant had been well liked by many people who never knew her.

Cat looked around at the unfamiliar room and desperately wished she felt more grief, more sadness, than what she did. She wished she were back in her childhood home in National City, where she’d read Nikolai Gogol and watched late-night television and used her father’s old plane tickets as bookmarks, where she had moments and memories to reminisce on, to _cling_ to.

Instead, she was sitting mostly dry-eyed and full of irritation in a Manhattan brownstone she’d only ever visited a handful of times. The only other sounds besides that of the guests clamoring about downstairs was the hum of the occasional car passing by outside or the bark of a small, yappy dog out for a walk with its owner.

Admittedly, the brownstone was every literary snob’s dream, all hardwood floors, victorian style trim around every doorway and huge bay windows, the property sitting on a sleepy tree-lined block; for Cat though, it was a waking nightmare that made her feel like a trespasser in some stranger’s home.

Cat stared out the window and watched with envy as a few birds flew past, free and unburdened, and wondered if anyone would notice if she simply walked out the front door and never came back.

“Miss Grant?”

Cat startled out of her musings for a second before turning to face the open doorway; Kara stood there, tablet in hand and glasses sat high on her nose. Her young assistant was dressed in all black similarly to Cat, only with a black wool coat like that of a librarian’s where Cat was donned in a designer jacket, with a look of trepidation on her face.

“Is it time to leave?” she asked.

Kara nodded, brows furrowed in obvious concern. “It is, Miss Grant. I called the cars for everyone about half an hour ago so they should be arriving any minute now. And everything is ready to go at the cemetery, so all that’s left for us to do really is just show up.”

 _Kara_ , Cat remembered, would _always_ remember, that the young woman had lost her own family and it showed that Kara had taken Cat’s loss to heart just as she did every other problem that arose in the lives of her friends and coworkers.

Her assistant had been more phenomenal during this time than Cat could have expected. The young woman had practically arranged the entire funeral for Cat, immediately throwing herself into the plan-making when it became clear that Cat was on the verge of reaching her breaking point, when all the tasks that went into funeral planning bordered on suffocating.

Seemingly before Cat could blink, the funeral home had been called and days had been taken off school for Carter, plane tickets purchased and memorial service arranged.

Rather than answer verbally, Cat silently nodded then stood and walked over to the mirror sitting above her mother's vanity. She rummaged in her purse for a second before she pulled out a silver tube of lipstick and leaned in towards the mirror to apply a fresh coat to her lips.

Her eyes caught Kara's in the reflection and they both paused almost imperceptibly as the air around them suddenly seemed more charged than it had just a few moments earlier. Their eyes stayed locked in the mirror as Cat traced the lipstick around her lips, Kara’s gaze flickering down to follow the movement.

“Um,” Kara cleared her throat, eyes suddenly darting away from Cat, “I’ll just- I’ll just go wait downstairs with Carter.”

Cat felt butterflies stir low in her stomach as Kara practically ran out of the room towards the stairway, and with a quick once-over in the mirror, Cat took a deep breath to steady herself before finally heading out to find her son and assistant.

 

* * *

 

Cat wasn't sure if the funeral actually went by as quickly as it felt or if she was in too much of a daze to notice the accurate passage of time. Carter had stood pressed against her side the entire time, Kara on his other side with a comforting hand on his shoulder.

She had caught a few sideways glances from her mother's friends at the boy’s lack of tears, but Cat paid them little mind; in his twelve years, Carter had really only known his grandmother through holiday phone calls and the occasional visit that, more often than not, ended in tears on Cat’s end. She knew her boy had been confused about what he felt, both upset at the loss of a family member yet not as troubled as a grieving grandson was expected to act.

Cat also guessed that in keeping up appearances with her prestigious acquaintances, Katherine had likely projected a carefully crafted image of familial closeness, with a dead husband she would never stop grieving, a grown daughter she missed _oh-so_ terribly and a doting grandson who was the spitting image of his late grandfather (all while steadily evading any mention of Adam, Cat’s biggest failure yet).

The people in her mother’s circle had known only what Katherine wanted them to, and so Cat didn't waste any energy on caring about what they may have been thinking about her or Carter.

Kara, on the other hand, she had caught throwing sharp glares at any attendee who dared look at the boy with an ounce of judgement. Kara’s grip would tighten almost imperceptibly on top of his shoulder like she was getting ready to pull him out of the line of fire and fly him away to safety at the drop of a hat.

But soon enough, the sun had gone down, the temperature had dropped and the neighborhood outside was lightly blanketed with snow, illuminated mostly by the dim street lamps and distant city lights.

A few hours after falling asleep in one of the guest bedrooms, Cat woke with a start, something akin to a gasp ripping from her throat as she was yanked into consciousness. Dreams of falling elevators and rushing ambulances and the sound of thunder growing louder, closer, by the second all still lingered on the edge of her subconscious.

It hadn't been a straightforward nightmare so much as it was an unsettling mirage of noises and images that reminded her of Leslie and Siobhan, of the woman with sunken eyes and smarting bruises that Cat failed to help, that all left her lying there heaving and feeling almost nauseous. Cat sat up slowly and reached a hand out to the nightstand to check the time on her phone.

It read 12:03 AM.

Laying back down, she stared up at the ceiling in an attempt to calm herself before the quiet creak of the door opening grabbed her attention.

“Kara?” she murmured in confusion as she quickly sat back up at the sight of blue eyes peering at her in confusion from the open doorway.

“Sorry, I'm so sorry to barge in, Miss Grant,” Kara rushed out, taking a step into the room with hands held up as if in surrender, “I- I heard, um, I mean I _thought_ I heard you, or maybe it was Carter, having a nightmare so I came to check here first. Sorry,” she stumbled out and Cat could make out the flush of her cheeks thanks to the streetlight spilling in from the window and throwing shadows across the room.

“It's alright, Kara,” Cat said in a gravelly voice, the use of her assistant’s real name drawing a surprised look from the younger woman, “I had a nightmare. I'll be fine now, thank you for checking on me. You didn’t have to.”

Cat didn't mention that she had barely made a sound as she woke from her nightmares, that it would be impossible for any _un_ extraordinary person to hear her gasp from down the hall. There was no need to speak what had been long unspoken between them, not tonight at least. Cat knew and Kara knew and it was enough.

“Would you, um, maybe like me to stay, Miss Grant?” Kara asked hesitantly, the words clearly forced out through an onslaught of nerves, “I’ll only stay a minute, I swear I just, y’know, want to make sure you're okay.”

From any of her previous assistants, hell, from any of her so-called ‘friends,’ Cat would have felt wary and uncomfortable at the unprompted proposition.

From Kara, though, Cat knew better than to think her motivated by any ill will. The young woman had been taking care of her since day one, had been the one to stock her cabinets with more candy than alcohol, had worried over her like no one else ever had, save for Carter maybe.

 _Trust_. Cat trusted Kara, even if the realization made her want to run, want to board a plane and fly as far away as possible, the same way that birds fly south for the winter, and shield herself off from potential disaster.

Instead, Cat gave only a curt nod in response, but it was enough to nudge Kara into action.

The younger woman closed the bedroom door behind her, then shuffled into the room and moved to sit on the very edge of the bed.

Sitting stiffly with one leg hanging off the bed, Kara fiddled with her fingers likely because her glasses were gone and she had nothing else to fidget with. She stared intently at a marble chess set that sat on a small table in the corner of the room, the pieces sat regally in wait on the board for the first player to make their move, and Cat couldn’t help but roll her eyes and release an exasperated sigh.

“You can lay down, Kiera, you're not going to catch anything from me. And it’s not as if we haven’t been in this close of quarters before,” she chastised, thinking back over all their late nights in the office sat side by side, legs and arms pressed together despite the abundance of room on Cat’s office couch. Another step in their dance around the pull each woman so clearly felt towards the other.

“Yeah, okay,” Kara cleared her throat and Cat caught a glimpse of the bashful look on the her face as Kara moved to lie down, her features illuminated by what light was shining in through the window, lashes long and slightly glittery as Kara blinked away her uncertainty.

They laid together, less than a foot of space between them, in silence for a strained minute.

“I was having nightmares about Leslie, in a way. Siobhan, too, amongst other things,” Cat finally spoke, the words bubbling out of her almost without permission.

It was a tense moment before Kara said anything. The wind could be heard slowing down outside as the leaves of the trees settled their rustling. The streetlights pouring in through the open curtains casted a dim pale orange glow in the room.

“You don't have to worry about them or any other threat, Miss Grant,” Kara finally said with heavy conviction, “You're safe, I’ll alw- I mean, _Supergirl_ will always make sure that nothing happens to you. She’ll always keep you safe.”

“You know, it _is_ alright for you to call me Cat, I think we’ve moved past the necessity for such formalities at this point, don't you?” Cat gestured to the bed they were both lying on.

With a small bout of impulsivity, Cat closed what little space there was between her and Kara’s hands just enough to stretch her fingers out and place them above Kara’s. There was a buzz of electricity that accompanied the touch, and both women clung to their breaths, afraid to disturb the moment they had created.

It was almost too innocent an act for Cat’s age and reputation, like flirting school children on a bench at recess, but the touch was enough to set Cat’s nerves alight, her stomach churning with something that felt like a craving.

Katherine Grant’s words rang out in the back of her mind, the ones she’d laughed out harshly on the phone after that disastrous incident when Katherine first met Kara, _Really, Kitty_? _Multiple divorces, an estranged son, and now you fall for your young, blonde assistant? Any other cliches you'd like to add to the list?_

“Cat,” Kara tested, voice low with a raspiness to it, her pinky wrapping around Cat’s ring finger, “Are any… Are any of your nightmares ever about what Supergirl did to you? About being thrown from the balcony?”

Cat glanced at the gorgeous woman and suppressed a whimper; Kara’s features were made brighter by the weak moonlight and neon glow leaking through the window, her blue eyes darkened with something Cat couldn't quite pinpoint. Kara’s free hand rested flat on washboard abs that were peeking out from the bottom of her tank top. Without the glasses and with her long hair lying tossed over the pillow, Kara looked older, more mature, like someone who had been put through ten lifetimes worth of hardships and yet had managed to make it out alive.

And where Kara was adept at reading Cat’s emotions, Cat was fluent in all of Kara’s tells. The usually fidgety woman had gone stiff as a board as she anticipated Cat’s answer, mouth pressed together in a tight line. Cat could read between the lines of rigid shoulders and averted gaze to hear the actual question: _Do I scare you?_

“No, I only had a few dreams about that incident during the week or two after it happened, but that was all,” Cat moved her hand to cover the back of Kara’s palm with her own without lacing their fingers together to keep the physical contact right on the edge of innocence, “Even in her _wrong_ state of mind, Supergirl would never cause me serious harm. I'm not afraid of her. I have no reason to be.”

“I’m glad,” Kara whispered, “I hope you know that Supergirl would never intentionally hurt you.”

Cat began to stroke the back of Kara’s palm with the tip of her middle finger, drawing random shapes and patterns on the skin there. She hoped the motion was soothing on Kara’s end because for Cat, it only caused a strong flutter deep in her belly.

Cat shrugged. “I know.”

“Do you miss her?” Kara asked suddenly, nearly giving Cat whiplash with the abrupt subject change, “Your mother, I mean?”

Cat contemplated the question and took a moment to observe what she could make out in the dark room; her mother had kept every part of the brownstone pristine in its upkeep, each room portraying a certain air of refinement and dignity, like a museum. There was a large, brown dresser tucked into the corner against the far wall and a chocolate leather armchair positioned by the window. Each side of the bed had its own nightstand and corresponding lamp, and Cat was half convinced that if she opened their drawers, she would find copies of her mother’s books inside.

Nothing about the place suggested a life, a family. Just appearances.

“I want to,” Cat said honestly, “I want to miss her more than anything. But it's difficult to miss someone who was only ever around when the opportunities to _criticize_ or to flash her own triumphs at me arose,” she shrugged, “But I suppose I shouldn't be complaining. I had a mother, that should be enough for me to mourn.”

She ran the fingers not resting atop Kara’s hand over the bedsheets, focusing on the feel of the thousand thread count instead of the heat caused by the other woman’s presence.

Kara shifted over just a bit so her bicep was pressed against Cat’s, causing goosebumps to erupt on the older woman’s skin and the hint of a shiver to run down her spine despite the gravity of the conversation.

“I've mentioned before that my parents died when I was young, so I think I understand on some level what you're feeling,” Kara turned her head to the side so their eyes met, her look holding something heavy that Cat had caught glimpses of before, “Because even though they didn't leave me willingly, it still hurt. And I've still been angry with them, with my mom especially, for all this loneliness and anguish they left me with. I guess I'm- what I'm saying is, it's okay to be more angry than sad, is all.”

Kara gave a small shrug, but kept her stare locked on the older woman’s, eyes flickering down to Cat’s lips for a second too long before meeting Cat’s gaze again.

Even in the midst of heavy emotional toll, Kara could still cause a deep blush to rise from Cat’s chest up to her cheeks.

“I think,” Cat paused to lick her lips (knowing Kara would be locked on the movement) and gathered herself emotionally, wanting the honest connection between them to continue for as long as possible, “I think I've been grieving my mother all my life.”

She let out a short laugh that was throaty and devoid of humor, and Kara shifted in place next to her. The room felt entirely too hot for an east coast winter night. Cat stared up at the ceiling, then felt the edges of short fingernails lightly, soothingly, rake up and down her arm, the touch barely there but enough for Cat’s breath to catch in her throat. Kara kept up her movements for another quiet minute or two, every so often applying a bit of pressure to Cat’s arm, the feeling massage-like and tantalizing.

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known, Cat,” Kara whispered, her voice full of reverence.

One heartbeat passed, then a second and a third before Cat’s mouth upticked at the corners, the ghost of a smirk on her lips.

“Thank you for not going the cliche route and saying ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘everything will be alright’ or some other empty platitude that I've been getting from those vultures all week.”

They both laughed genuinely, the sad tension between them mostly broken up by the sound, while a completely separate sort of tension remained, the same one that had underlied nearly all of their interactions throughout the past year.

Cat would be hard pressed to admit it, but she was grateful that the. woman she felt so much for was there in a time when she was afraid by how little she felt.

It should have seemed dangerous, like Cat was flirting with fire, putting her heart on the line to trod into unknown territory with a strong, meek young woman who was far too good for her; but it didn't. It felt right, lying next to each other on Egyptian cotton sheets, the covers bunched up at the end of the bed, Cat having kicked them off to get some much needed air due to the overwhelming heat licking at her veins. It felt like reaching a long-awaited destination.

They stayed mostly still for a second, then Kara turned onto her side and Cat followed suit so they were both facing each other, less than inches between them.

Cat had pushed as far as she dared, but it would be on Kara to take them the rest of the way forward; there was no way in hell Cat would risk forcing her compliant, eager-to-please assistant into something she didn't want.

Tentatively, Kara took one of Cat’s hands in hers and brushed Cat’s fingers against her lips so lightly and timidly it could hardly be counted as a kiss. Still, Cat had to swallow a lump in her throat as she felt Kara’s warm breath ghost over her fingertips, and the guest room suddenly seemed all the more smaller for it.

Kara licked her lips. “Cat, before I do something potentially very stupid, there's something I should tell you before I lose my nerve. I think you need to know that I'm-”

“I know,” Cat cut her off, “I know, but tonight I don't need you to say it. I don't _want_ you to. I just want us both to- to simply _be_ here, for now at least.”

There’s a strong shift in the atmosphere around them then, like the air is suddenly awash with static. Kara shifts to bring herself closer to the other woman then pauses, her face almost too close to Cat’s now. Cat can feel her heart drumming away in her chest and briefly wonders if Kara is listening to it, wonders how the Girl of Steel must feel about being able to affect the Queen of All Media this way.

There’s a distinct shift in Cat’s thinking, too, from stationary to a steady momentum, like a plane taking off, like something in her chest has been jump-started, some necessary part of her that's been lying dormant all this time without Cat even realizing it.

Kara hesitates for a moment, as if afraid of how her touch might be received, then quickly reaches over and begins softly carding her fingers through Cat's hair. She repeats the soothing movement a few times, eyes clearly fixed on the older woman's lips, before abruptly stopping her hand at the base of Cat's neck. Moving her palm to Cat's jaw, Kara traces her thumb and forefinger down Cat's cheek and places her fingers under Cat's chin to tilt her face closer.

And without any further reservations, Cat closes the distance, Kara meeting her halfway.  
  
Cat knows Kara all too well for the kiss to be something wholly unexpected; the hero's mouth is soft and hot against hers, pressing firmly and with intention, as if trying to pour every emotion she’s ever felt into Cat's lips. The delicate kiss grows in intensity with every few seconds that pass and Cat has a very fleeting thought that it must be Kara's way of gauging her strength. 

Letting herself sink into the moment and into Kara’s arms, Cat curls her hands around the younger woman’s shoulders as Kara shifts to lie on top of Cat, her lean body molding to Cat’s smaller frame.

The feeling of hard abs pressed tight against her stomach makes Cat groan into Kara’s mouth, the younger woman swallowing the sound hungrily. Even through her’s and Kara’s clothes, Cat can feel the Kryptonian’s warmth radiating off of her in waves and it makes Cat kiss her all the more desperately.

Kara runs her hands along Cat’s thighs to wrap a thin leg around her waist and presses the front of their bodies as close together as possible, no room for air or atoms between them. And Cat wants to lose herself in this, in _Kara_ , wants to drown in blue eyes and pink lips and pretend they’re in a place no one else can ever reach them.

But they're not in such a place; they're in a brownstone in New York that technically still belongs to her dead mother until the lawyers say otherwise, a woman whose funeral was barely held that morning, and Cat is still grieving, still unsure that she can live up to Kara’s wants and expectations. It could be the swell of emotion that comes from losing a parent, losing her _last_ parent, but if Cat was never even able to make her mother proud, how is she supposed to reach a woman who fell from the stars themselves?

And suddenly, _too_ suddenly, Cat may be there with Kara physically, but her mind is racing somewhere a million miles from here.

So she pulls away.

“Wait,” Cat rasps out, panting, one hand pushing gently against Kara’s chest. The younger woman immediately backs off, brows scrunching in concern.

“Are you alright, Cat? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, darling,” Cat is quick to soothe, reaching out to cup Kara’s cheek and stroke her thumb along a strong jawline, “You've done everything right. I promise.”

“Are you sure? You look a little pale,” Kara points out worriedly, gaze raking over Cat’s body in search of injury or some other potential source of pain. Cat bites back the urge to snap back with a snarky _And just how can you tell that I look pale in the dark?_ but she refrains as best she can.

It's not the time for that. Not the time to address the cape shaped secret in Kara’s closet, not the time to bring up Cat’s brimming fears of inadequacy, nor the fact that Cat wants some level of commitment while she’s almost positive the younger woman must surely want her freedom. She thinks of National City and Carter and CatCo and Supergirl. What Kara's family and friends will say. Whether they'll approve or talk Kara out of whatever is developing between them. 

Cat thinks of the snow dusting outside, remembers the light sheen of it that gathered on her jacket as she had walked inside from the car earlier, Carter at her side and Kara’s hand ghosting over the small of her back while a black bird - a crow, maybe - soared by quietly overhead before it had disappeared somewhere over the brownstone.

“It's nothing that can't wait until we’re back home, when we’re not in the middle of such circumstances as the death of a family member,” Cat deadpans, smirking just a fraction of a bit. This trip, this _night_ , has taken such an unexpected turn that Cat can't help but feel a little silly over the whole thing (not silly about Kara, though; hell, Kara is the one thing she's entirely sure about, feels entirely grounded in).

“Okay,” Kara pauses and the silence feels charged with something heavy, “But for tonight, I want you to know that no matter what comes of this when we get back to National City, you have me. In whatever way you want, for as long as you want. Because,” she pauses again, “Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Cat. And nothing will ever change that.”

Because _of course_ , of course Supergirl is as adept at reading other people’s emotions as she is saving children from burning buildings.

With as much conviction as she can muster - as much as she can _fake_ \- Cat thinks that maybe she can teach herself to go as high and as far as Kara needs her to, to meet her expectations.

Cat can feel the tears threatening to break through behind her eyes, but she buries her face against Kara’s neck and steadily refuses to let them fall.

For a rare moment, Cat is willing to let herself play the optimist; they'll get up in the morning and pack her mother’s things before boarding a flight to head back home. They'll settle into their new roles once they reach National City and find their footing and there will be an _us_ moving forward.

Cat can feel Kara’s mouth in her hair, can feel a warm exhale against the top of her ear and two hands feeling up and down her sides, not so much sensual as it is searching.

“Hey, you're shaking,” Kara notes distractedly as she begins rubbing up and down Cat’s back with a strong, steady touch.

“Kara _, please_ ,” Cat rasps out in an airy whisper, knotting her hands in the younger woman’s tank top, unsure of what she's even asking for, what she _needs_ , just knowing that she needs to breathe out Kara’s name like a mantra, “ _Kara._ ”

Kara turns her head to press their lips together,  _hard_ , and Cat has never been so grateful to have the air stolen right out of her lungs before. It's messy and uncoordinated, Kara nipping at Cat's bottom lip, the tips of their noses brushing against each other when their tongues meet and Kara licks at the roof of Cat's mouth.

But it's over far too soon for Cat's liking, and she tries her damnedest to chase after Kara's lips when the younger woman pulls away and puts a few inches of distance between them, but to no avail. 

“Cat, I don't think we should go any farther than this tonight,” Kara says in a quick, breathy sentence that breaks Cat from her musings. But she doesn't pull away. “I don't want our first time to be clouded by all this sorrow or for it to seem like I’m taking advantage of your vulnerability,” Kara shakes her head, blue eyes clearly troubled, even in the dim darkness surrounding them.

The silence between them stretches on for one heartbeat, two, three, four, before Cat is able to muster up enough energy to find her voice and respond to Kara. 

“I could never think you would take advantage of me, or anyone else for that matter. But I was just thinking the same thing actually, about not going further.” Cat whispers, running her fingers lightly along the younger woman’s collarbones, “This is enough, Kara.”

The hero’s arms tighten and she pulls Cat closer into her chest as she gently maneuvers them so they're laying on the sides, chests practically glued together and legs tangled up amongst the sheets.

With Kara so close to Cat, the young woman’s natural body heat is enough to be a comforting source of warmth to ward off the winter cold.

Cat decides to make the most of being little spoon and turns in Kara’s arms so she's facing the window, her back molded against Kara’s front. The hands around her stomach tighten their hold and as she watches through heavy eyelids the snow slowly trickling down, she briefly wonders how impulsive it’ll seem if she buys a brownstone of her own tomorrow. 

Just before her eyes fall shut completely, she thinks sees a bird fly past.  


**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading and @RoLo_Renegade, I really really hope you liked it and that it was a good bed sharing fic!


End file.
